


I Really Hope You're Right

by Savanna (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Afterlife, Fluff and Angst, Harley Is A Good Bro, Harley Keener & Peter Parker Friendship, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Sorry, Misunderstandings, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, youll understand in chapter two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 20:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Savanna
Summary: Peter's plan to escape -well, from everything- had failed thanks to Fury and Beck. When Peter got into his suit to fight an elemental monster, though, he understood that it wasn't something he could (or should) try to run away from. Fury called him 'the next Iron Man', and boy was that a huge responsibility, but it wasn't entirely a huge surprise.Still, it's a lot of pressure and Peter finds himself questioning it constantly. It's only when Peter comes face to face with someone in a suit akin to Tony's, that he finds some clarity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure to read all the tags! Thanks!  
> ~~~  
> Everything canon in Endgame is canon in this story. It's set after Peter comes back from vacation, but with the premise that Quentin Beck/Mysterio doesn't betray him or become an enemy by any other possible means.

Peter's eyes widen, and the eyepieces of his suit widen with them. It's clear before him, the gold faceplate with almost-angry glowing eyes. The flashy red along the whole suit, with some gold splashed here and there. The arc reactor, a glowing circle in the chestplate's center. 

It's as vivid as the paintings displayed in the museum Peter was just about to leave via window, the window that the Iron Man suit was now blocking. The name comes out half-strangled from Peter's rapidly drying mouth as bile starts to rise. "Tony?"

Earlier, Peter had heard from a few blocks away the shrieking fire alarm of the museum. He had rushed over to check it out; there was no fire, but people were still rushing out to the marble steps outside. He didn't hesitate to head inside after somewhat successfully calming the frenzied citizens. After passing through a few exhibits and hearing from some restless security that four men were on the second floor stealing million dollar paintings, Peter headed up quickly to apprehend them. They were skilled and put up a fight, but the newest suit paired with his improved skills made it hardly an effort to stop them. 

It was after webbing them up around a statue and opening the nearest window that Peter heard 'is that Iron Man??' shouted from below, and locked eyes with the too-familiar metal face of his late mentor's alter ego.

The faceplate lifted up but didn't retract into the suit like the latest nano suits did, and now Peter is staring at a stranger. A boy his age with dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes filled with curiosity. Peter's stomach takes a sudden lurch of...disappointment? relief?- and he can't help but lean onto the windowsill for support. "You're- who- "

The faceplate slides down. "Keener," is the reply. "You're Spider-Boy? Right? You sort of took the glory from me just then. Wanna put in a good word to the police for me?" There's a slightly muffled laugh. Then, after a pause, "That was a joke."

Peter can't focus on all this information, so he focuses in on the suit. As he looks at it, he realizes it isn't so similar to the Iron Man suits as he had first believed. Along the bridge of the nose, there's a slight ridge that the curved helmets of Iron Man's suits didn't have, and the simplicity gives it more of a cartoonish look. The suit itself is slim, but bulky near the biceps where Peter imagines small missiles or other similar weaponry to be stored. The repulsors on the gauntlets and boots seem identical though, as do the glowing of the eyes and the arc reactor, meaning the technology used is most similar to the original. And on the boots is a somewhat bulky suspension system for more rough landings.

The helmet moves slightly up and down. "Nice suit," Keener says.

Peter goes to thank him but stops. Exasperated, he asks, "Who are you?" The design of the suit makes Peter believe that this person didn't copy stealed designs, but didn't do it with all his own materials either. That arc reactor, that was Tony's. There's not many ways someone can get their hands on one of them. "Did you- Did you know him?"

"...Maybe we should grab a bite and talk."

When Peter had come home from his wild vacation, he had a million thoughts racing through his head. He had fought an elemental monster, had met a man who proved that a multiverse was a reality, had confessed to MJ not only about Spider-Man but about his feelings for her, had gained some distance between him and Ned as Ned became closer to Betty, and had received words from Nick Fury that he wasn't sure how to interpret. He had been visibly stressed and depressed for weeks on end, and even now he was struggling to focus on his duties. 

He had thought that stopping these thieves at the museum might be a break for him, that he could go home and May would say how well he had handled it, that they could talk about this instead of all those other things- but that seemed unlikely now.

The two stopped on a flat roof three blocks down from the pizza place Keener had chosen, and now are each standing awkwardly with a pizza box in their hands. Keener takes the lead after a few seconds too long, plopping down in a cross-legged position which seems awfully difficult in the suit. His faceplate lifts up and he chows down on a slice. 

Peter doesn't want to follow his boldness, so he sits down and lifts his mask to just above his nose. He picks up a slice from his own box, but can't force himself to eat it. What is he doing, eating with a stranger that he quite honestly never wants to see again?

"C'mon, I'm not going to describe your face to the police or anything," Keener says while leaning back on one hand, his other holding a new slice of pizza. "I showed you my face, and my secrecy is just as important to me as yours is to you." He slouches a little, thinking back on his tone. "I knew Stark, and I'm guessing you did too. I don't think we have a reason to hide from each other."

Peter pulls his mask off, and he doesn't admit it but it feels nice to feel the afternoon breeze on his face. He refuses to make eye contact until he sees Keener point at him from the corner of his vision. "What?" Peter asks.

Keener squints, and then his expression settles into a sad understanding. "You were at the funeral, right? I didn't know anyone there, but you were my age so I kinda made note of you, I guess." Keener looks down at the bite in his slice. "I felt odd there... It didn't seem like a proper funeral for him. No grande speech by anyone, or-"

"Can we not talk about that??" Peter blurts. The quick fit of anger is gone quickly, and embarrassed, he fiddles with one of his web shooters. "I mean, now that you say it, I recognize you too...I don't really want to talk about that, though." He glances up at him. "I wanted to ask why you made yourself a suit, why you were there at the museum and everything."

"Oh, well sure." Keener adjusts his seating position and leans forward. "Hmm...So, my name is Harley Keener. I lived in Tennessee, that's where Stark met me. I was eight or nine, something like that. His suit was damaged and he needed a place to fix it, so I let him use the garage at my mom's farmhouse. He gets it running again, and then he leaves. About two weeks later I come home from school one day and find the garage packed with random tech, a car even. I hadn't heard about Iron Man until then. I thought he was just a mechanic, somewhat at least. I definitely knew better when I saw the garage." Harley chuckles.

He continues, "I uh, well Tony was sort of someone I looked up to. I mean, I was pissed at him for leaving me at the time, because things at home sort of sucked, and I always imagined that he'd take me and my little sister to live in a huge mansion. Obviously he couldn't do that, y'know, and things ended up fine anyway. But, I kept thinking about him and the suit. I asked him to give me an arc reactor, of course I didn't know what it was even called at the time, but I made some excuse about our tractor needing a lasting power source. And Tony sent it over, and I started making a suit to pass the time." He looks at the suit he's currently wearing, looking at the repulsors. "I've changed it a lot. Used the AI from the laptop he gave me, since I remembered his suit had one named Jarvis. Mine's Abby."

"...Mine's Karen," Peter mumbles. "She's from Mr. Stark too." He gestures half-heartedly at himself. "This suit, all the ones before it, were made by him." He doesn't want to go into detail of how he and Tony had met, but there's something calming about them sharing something of Tony's. Of sharing memories of him. Peter clears his throat as thoughts head a little south. "So, you've been going around Queens as him?"

Harley shakes his head quickly. "No. Well, I've been all around New York. I didn't mean to pose as him or something, I just had the suit and eight year old past me thought that 'Iron Kid' was cool. I just wanted to see what it was like. The whole superhero thing.....And if nothing else, it's a cool toy. Gets the ladies." Harley laughs, while Peter snorts at how that's something Tony in his past would definitely say. "But," Harley adds, "I know that it isn't something I can continue doing. I don't think people would approve of someone trying to be the next Tony Stark or the next Iron Man."

Peter stares at him, the pizza slice in his hand long forgotten. 

_The world needs the next Iron Man._ It's something he's been told, and something he's said himself. It's something that's been haunting him night and day for a long time. The responsibility that came with it was something he wasn't sure he could handle. Yet at the same time, he wholeheartedly believed that he had to...that, in a way, Fury's request was Tony's own request. 

Harley notices Peter's odd stare. "Y'know, like the world wouldn't want someone trying to copy Stark, or replacing him," he tries to clarify. "I think we definitely need more people to step up, but without throwing Iron Man out the window."

"I-" Peter starts, then stops. He starts again, "I always wanted to be an Avenger. I think even though I was young, I understood the responsibility. But I guess I didn't understand the vastness of it? Because how, how can you fight when you seem to be the only one protecting the world? How can you not get overwhelmed, when you're just a kid from Queens trying to do something that only people like Tony Stark could do? As someone with powers, you have to do this, you _want_ to do this, but you're not prepared, and people expect you to be, they expect something from you because you're different and because you're willing. I...I was one of the last people that he looked after, and one of the last people to be there for him before he..." He stops and takes in a shaky breath. "People expect me to live up to their standards of him, to be what he was. I don't really know if I can do that."

He expects Harley to say something right away, to either agree with the world or share another story, but Harley is quiet for a moment. He's pondering over it.

Harley leans back and taps on the faceplate of his suit. "Well, from what I know about Stark, he's the type to despise those trying to copy him. Maybe that's why I gave this suit a try, just to spite him. ...Point is, what was he trying to do, even though it meant sacrifices? His mental health, his company, his life; he gave that stuff up so he could protect as many people as possible, and to protect Earth as a whole. Aren't you already doing that?" Harley shrugs so nonchalantly. "If they don't mean that when they tell you to be like him, then don't listen to whoever 'they' are. ...I don't think it's all that great of an idea to be exactly like him anyway. He had a terribly inflated ego." 

The two share a brief laugh.

"The world won't forget him," Harley reassured, "so there isn't a reason to try and be him. I didn't know him for a long time, or, I really just learned about him through newspapers and magazines. I won't forget him though, and people who knew him even less than me won't forget him. In a way, he's living on through everyone who knows him, so if you're worried about that, it isn't like what you think. I realized a few months after the funeral that I didn't have to become absorbed by him, with thoughts and the world's reaction, but that didn't mean I had to leave him completely behind. It's like that with any loved one that you lose."

Harley has a fond expression for a moment. "There was a story that went around in my town after a bombing...About people going to heaven. I don't know if I can really believe in that anymore, but I know Tony is somewhere, and he's keeping an eye out for you. Not to judge how you're doing as a hero or whatever, but...there to see that you're okay, just there to smile at all the good you've done, and to cheer you on in his own way. Tony wouldn't expect you to be like him."

Peter has tears in his eyes. "He'd expect me to be better." As he says it, the words cut through him like a knife. It had been one of the most painful things he had heard, and from his own mentor at that. He hadn't really gotten over it.

"If he does expect that, then it's because he knows _that you can_ be better." Harley tilts his head, "I don't think he'd say that otherwise. Stark had a way of being like that, even to me when I was that young. He saw the good in me, I guess, and him saying it in a odd way was just his best try at being a guide, even when he said it out of anger or disappointment. Even at nine years old I could see that he was insecure about himself and his capabilities. The disappointment was more at himself, although I was a little shit as a kid and that wasn't really his fault."

The wind had picked up since they first started talking. The sun was beginning to set as well. Peter can't help but look at the changing color of the sky and admire it. He then looks back at Harley. What a weird person to run into, but also maybe the perfect person to run into.

Peter slowly closes his pizza box and grabs his mask from the ground. "...I really hope you're right. Harley." He stands up, leaving the box as he can't swing through Queens with it in hand. He knows it's sudden to leave, but there's a lot to stomach and he would appreciate time to think about it alone in the comfort of his bed or the living room couch. "Um, I should probably go. My aunt wants me to do something for her."

"Tell me about it," Harley says as he stands up, the suit making a mechanical whirl. "My mom is going to beat my ass if I'm not home by six."

Peter chuckles.

"I'll leave Queens up to you, then," Harley half-jokes. "Don't want to intrude, and it seems like you've got things covered."

Peter shakes his head. "No, it- It was nice to have you here. I've been on my own for...a while."

Harley nods in understanding. It was on the news, about Captain America's disappearance and the others' forced-or-not retirement. "Well maybe I'll see you around,-...?"

"Peter."

Harley smiles and the faceplate goes down with a metallic _thunk_. "See ya, Pete." Three repulsors come to life, and he flies off, with a pizza box secure in one hand. Peter watches him leave until he can't see hot-rod red any longer.

He puts on his mask and walks to the edge of the rooftop.

"Hello Peter," Karen greets.

Peter walks over the edge, and is suddenly swinging through Queens.

"Did you find out who that was, Peter?" Karen asks, as she hadn't been able to scan Harley's face when they were at the museum window.

Peter nods, and his thoughts threaten to race as he swings from building to building, but he pushes that feeling down.

"He was an old friend, I guess."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an extra bit, heavily inspired by a fan-comic. I couldn't end the story without a more emotional ending, because I'm still salty af about Tony and Nat, okay? But it's emotional in a good way, I hope.

Tony, as far as he's aware, is alone for the moment. He takes the opportunity to think a little, and then delves into searching for someone. He's staring at nothing, but not really. He's searching May's apartment, and it's as real to his eyes as his own body is.

It isn't an easy thing to describe, to be somewhere when Tony thought he'd be nowhere. Especially when Tony doubted that this 'somewhere' really existed. But he's here, in this vast whiteness. It isn't lonely like he thought it'd be when he first arrived. There's something calming and pleasant about the place, warm and inviting too, even when he had arrived there and was alone for what felt like hours at first.

Then Natasha had arrived out of the blue, suddenly there in the whiteness behind him.

She's there too now, and sets a loving hand on his arm, and he feels it like it's just as real as anything else that he had touched or heard or known in his life. Somehow, he knows she's joined him, delving and peering into the living room of May's apartment.

"They've changed it up," Natasha comments, proving his theory. She gets on her tiptoes as if the angle would let her see anything more than she already does. 

"Something's off with the kid," he replies, seeing Peter laying on the couch texting someone. Ned, probably.

Natasha rubs circles on Tony's back. "You worry too much."

"I have every right to," Tony mutters, but he can't help but feel at ease with her there beside him. Tony means to look for May and check up on her too, that this was just going to be a few minutes as usual, but he changes his mind and takes a closer look at Peter. What he sees makes him gasp.

Natasha furrows her eyebrows and looks too. "Oh, do you know him?"

"That's Henr- no, Harley. Harley Keener. I haven't heard from him since 2015." 

The two see Harley in his very own suit, and both smile. Tony's falters when Peter acts a little panicked at seeing the suit, but Tony doesn't jump the gun just yet. They wait, and watch the two interact.

"Should I be surprised they got individual pizzas?" Natasha asks with a smile tugging at her lips. 

Tony doesn't really hear the comment, too focused on the little snippet of the past playing before them, so vivid that it's reflected in Tony's eyes. He watches them go to the rooftop, watches them and listens to them talk. He wishes he could have introduced them, that they didn't have to meet in such a strange way. He wishes he could give Harley hell for trying to rush around in a suit that wasn't made by Tony himself.

Peter and Harley start talking about 'responsibilities' and 'being the next Iron Man'. Tony can feel the anxiety pouring in, as well as anger. "I wish I could tell that damned Fury to-"

"Tony," Natasha gently scolds. "Fury has flaws just as anyone else." Before he can come up with a rebuttal, she points at the scene. "Just listen to what they're saying."

He takes a breath and does, listening to them as they talk back and forth and eat their pizza. Despite never feeling hungry, he wishes he could have a slice. He wishes he didn't wear plain white pants and a white t-shirt all the time either, but he's already complained enough times that the want for other clothes has faded.

Natasha moves and takes a seat, sitting on what appears not a solid but just whiteness. Tony follows suit, the memory moving down with him as he sits beside her. She rests her head on his shoulder, moving her braided red hair out of the way before doing so.

 _"People expect me to live up to their standards of him, to be what he was. I don't really know if I can do that."_ Tony's heart hurts at hearing that. He doesn't speak, though, doesn't make a comment about how proud he really is and how sorry he really is- not until Peter finishes voicing his thoughts, at least.

 _"He had a terribly inflated ego."_ He watches Harley say. Natasha laughs from beside him. Tony would have a playful argument with her about that, but not now.

 _"The world won't forget him,"_ Harley says. Tony can't stop the tears that well up in his eyes. He had seen it, had seen all the love from people around the world. The tributes, the lit candles, the artwork, the joining of people to talk about him, his work displayed in museums, everything. It had made him cry more than once for sure. There had been tributes for Natasha too, from people they hadn't even expected. There had been young girls who dressed up as her for Halloween, and now they knew of her boldness even back when fighting Shield, and now these girls were being empowered by her to stand up for themselves and others.

Things had been tough at first, when Tony came to and realized he was here and not home. Natasha had been here longer than him and she had still been struggling when he arrived, but eventually they had calmed and reassured each other. Seeing what was happening on Earth and in the galaxy helped a lot too. People were following suit, doing the same good that she and Tony had done and tried to do. Hearing Harley speak of this idea, they were remembering it all again, but with just a bit more validity this time.

_"There was a story that went around in my town after a bombing...About people going to heaven. I don't know if I can really believe in that anymore, but I know Tony is somewhere, and he's keeping an eye out for you. Not to judge how you're doing as a hero or whatever, but...there to see that you're okay, just there to smile at all the good you've done, and to cheer you on in his own way."_

"Oh no, they're onto us," Tony whispers as a tear rolls down his cheek. Natasha laughs, but it's clear she's about to cry too.

 _"Tony wouldn't expect you to be like him."_ Says Harley.

 _"He'd expect me to be better."_ Peter replies.

Tony breaks down. He hears what Harley says, the reassurance for both him and Peter, understands that the boys know the truth, but he can't stop crying. He regretted so many things that he had done and hadn't done. Taking Peter under his wing was not something Tony did everyday. He had put so much time and effort in, and even now Tony still hoped and prayed that he had done all he possibly could. He knew Peter could be so much better than him, but he hoped things he had done in the past wouldn't negatively affect Peter's progress. When they first met, Tony had been desperate for help, and he knew that he couldn't take that moment back, that he couldn't walk away from that apartment door. With the Vulture, Tony had said things he did and didn't mean, and he hoped that with Harley's aid, Peter wouldn't take it the wrong way anymore. 

Tony knew painfully just how imperfect he was. He struggled, too, with knowing what was in and out of his control. The constant tug and pull of 'what if', or instances where there was a fine line, like how Peter boarding the hurtling ship against his will was out of his control, but Tony letting him anywhere near the fight was Tony's fault. Peter going off on his own to fight the Vulture only to get stuck under a destroyed building, and Tony not being there when he should or how he shouldn't have taken away the suit. It was all with circumstance, and it made Tony lightheaded sometimes. 

Natasha leans forward to look at him. "You're doing it again."

Tony sighs. "I just-"

"Don't look at the past, Tony. Look at the present, and the future. Peter has so many good things to accomplish still."

Tony hates how miserable he feels when he thinks like this. "So many bad things to happen."

"It's a learning process. And things no one can control." She knows that just as well as he does. "But Peter's smart, and I just know he's got a bright future. He'll be okay."

Tony lets the vision of the young heroes fade as Harley flies off with a pizza box. He (tries to) discretely wipe at dried tears on his cheeks and then turns to look at her. "...I really hope you're right, Romanov."

She smiles, bright and endearing. "No need to worry, Stark." This time she delves into the past, searching for something. When she finds it, she hums a familiar tune, and Tony joins to see an old memory of numerous people. They're all dressed up, and dancing in pairs to a lovely song.

"It's not Black Sabbath," Tony tells her, "but it'll do for now."

Natasha smiles. She closes her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder again, and they sit like that for a while. Peaceful, calm, and happy; a song shared between old friends.


End file.
